


The Mission

by kawasemi



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Highschool AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawasemi/pseuds/kawasemi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That, however was the fateful night that sent Cas on his mission to free Dean's sexuality...<br/>In which Castiel is trying to get his friend out of the closet and instead begins to fall for him.<br/>This is a highschool AU for a friend of mine (who is in uni, but it still happened to her)<br/>Honey, if you read this, this is ENTIRELY your fault and you guys need to pull your heads out of your asses :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mission

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this little piece of school duty procrastination ^^  
> This is not beta'd and my first language happens to differ from the English one so if you find any faults, feel free to leave a comment and if you like it, i would be really happy if you told me so :)  
> Enjoy

"Cas! I swear if you don't cut this crap I'm gonna hunt you down!" The poster shoved into his face crackles as it wrinkles in the death grip of an angry clenched fist.  
It's an image of a half naked body entirely displayed in black and white. The guy's muscles are just soft enough to paint a nice fuzzy pattern of shadows across his wet skin and the car he is leaning against,a classic, is as aesthetically pleasing as his handsome face.  
Of course Castiel only knows that because he printed it out himself this morning. Right now the piercing grey eyes are way too close to his own to really appreciate them.

Cas can feel the edge of his locker digging into the small of his back as he slowly lifts his hand to grasp the ruined photograph. "If you would simply admit to it, there would be no need for me to leave those in your locker." Dean sighs, rolling his eyes in an aggravated manner for what feels like the umptieth time this week to Cas.  
"Listen Cas, I can understand ok? I know it's hard, being the only guy out in your school, but just because you're gay-" "It's called pansexual." "Yeah, whatever. Doesn't mean you need to force your sexuality on anyone else!"  
Cas can feel his throat constricting, the words piercing through his skin like knives, but he knows Dean doesn't mean it that way.  
He swallows around the lump and fixes his gaze onto grassy green. "I won't do it again." He really won't. Doesn't mean he will give up on his mission to liberate his friend from the cage he just knows he's trapped in. Or closet, more like a tightly locked closet.  
The smile lifting one of the corners of Dean's lips is a really nice change to his clenched jawline. "Good." He steps back, out of Castiel's personal space and into the middle of the empty hallway. "Now you coming or what?"  
His eyes leave Dean's only long enough to pick up the old leather bag and neatly folded trenchcoat on the floor.  
When he turns back Dean's already walking ahead, dufflebag slung over his shoulder like always.  
The image hastily shoved into the depth of his pocket rustles as Cas hurries to catch up, adjusting his glasses once he reaches the young Winchester.  
It's not like they have been friends for an awfully long time so he resists the urge to rest his arm around the tattooed neck and runs his fingers through his messy hair instead, probably only making it worse.  
"How is Sam?" No matter how many times he watches it, the light entering those green eyes at the mention of his younger sibling is something Cas will probably never get tired of. "He's good, just brought home another straight A."  
Dean chuckles, pushing the door open. "The little nerd." "He still intends to aply for Stanford?" "Course he does. Sammy will be a lawyer some day, it's gonna be awesome." A lawyer. From what Castiel knows about Sam Winchester this seems to fit him. "What about you?"  
The air is still warm, sun shining down on them as they cross the parking lot. "Nah, i think I'll stick to what i'm good at. Someone has to take over dad's shop and it ain't the smart kid."  
Cas huffs, dumping his bag in the trunk of the Impala. "You are the most self depreciating human i have ever met." "Yeah whatever." 

The ride home is comfortably quiet, the soft hum of classic rock filling the blank spaces between them.  
Cas glances over at Dean a few times like he always does, taking in the somewhat delicate features in front of him.  
The same eyes that glared at his bullies when they first met are now trained on the road, fingers curled around the steering wheel.  
Dean has nice hands, long fingers that can create and mend things with such ease that Cas is left in awe every time he witnesses it.  
There are callouses at the tips, probably where the strings of his guitar cut into them and a few scars where he scraped his knuckles on the cars that he repaired.  
Or on the people he punched in the face.  
Like that guy who had kicked Cas in the gut a few time after knocking him onto the dirty street, calling him 'filthy' and 'a fag' when Dean had stepped in.  
That was three months ago and while the bruises had healed and faded the scars on his soul hadn't. Not fully.  
At least the bully kept his distance ever since and Dean and him had started developing a friendship that, by now, he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. 

By the time the engine cuts off the sky is coloured in a soft, glowing orange, pink clouds chasing grey ones. "You wanna... uh... hang out a little?" "Of course Dean, I always appreciate our time together."  
It's true, he does.  
Being the queer kid with the dirty old trench coat hadn't helped him in finding a lot of friends since he moved to Laurence.  
Dean just nods and goes to retrieve two bottles from the cooler next to their bags.  
As he settles on the hood of the Impala Cas can't help but compare him to the male model he pinned into Dean's locker earlier that day. There's the car for once, a little too similar to the one on the sharp edged paper ball in the pocket of his black dress pants.  
And the face.  
Dean is definitely handsome enough to remind him of the countless images in the box underneath his bed.  
Which also happens to contain a pack of tissues and half a bottle of lube so this train of thoughts is bound to get Castiel into trouble.  
"Thank you" The glass of the bottle is cold in his hands, condensation damping his palm and running down  
the neck of the bottle as he tilts it back. It's a brand he enjoys, the same Dean purchased for him the last time they went out. 

That time he drowned his insecurities in the liquid amber of whiskey before starting to hit on the bartender. The male bartender that is. If it were only for the fact that he was winking at the guy and clearly spent the night flirting with him, Cas wouldn't bother trying to open the closet. It did, however seem a little suspicious to him when Dean got up from his chair next to Castiels and disappeared through the back door of the bar, feet dripping and steps faltering.  
By the time Cas found him he was on his knees, rain pouring down onto his friend and the dusty street. The guy in front of him pulling at the soaked strands with one hand while undoing his belt buckle with the other. Green eyes glazed over and dark in the barely lit alleyway.  
Cas had yanked him to his feet, apologising to the guy who had shoved his boner into Dean's face and quickly dragging him to the Impala, muttering under his breath while his friend leaned into him while he kept him steady and upright as best as he could.  
The arm around Dean's waist kept holding him tight until they reached the car, even preventing him from falling head first into the contents of his own stomach. 

Cas wouldn't be able to explain why he did it, but he held onto Dean's hand as he drove home, refusing to let go of it until he could deposit him onto his bed, carefully pulling at the laces of his boots while Dean kept whining about lost opportunities and how he never had 'a gay thing' before.  
"Ya know Cas, I kinda always wanted to try that thing with the thing" He slurred, chuckling at something he apparently deemed funny. "what is it like huh? Doing the do with a guy?"  
Cas just huffed, beckoning Dean to roll over so he could unzip his fly and ignoring the fits of laughter erupting from the depth of his throat and causing his chest to jump up from the mattress. 

Dean told him a lot that night. His words tumbling from his lips and rolling off his lazy tongue until they turned into a string of gravelly mumbles, senseless syllables and eventually into soft snoring.

Castiel was fairly sure that it wasn't exactly what Dean had in mind when he suggested a night out, but he did end up sharing a good chunk of his life story with him.  
How he tried to please his father and make up for the time John got wasted and started yelling at Sammy.  
How his father never got over the grief of losing his wife and he ended up raising Sammy pretty much by himself, sacrificing his own childhood in favour of ensuring Sam's.  
How proud he felt that his brother was heading towards a Stanford career and how he thought that if anyone was smart enough to make it there, it would be Sam. 

But then there was also the stuff that he never expected to hear from Dean. Ever.  
Like him telling Cas that he was tired of the mask he put on every day or the fact that he really wanted to apply for the cheerleader team, but was too afraid of people calling him gay for it.  
And this one story about a girl named Ronda Hurley who made him put on pink panties that Dean felt really good in.  
Or the secret of the small box in the back of his closet containing said lingerie and a few he bought afterwards that he occasionally liked to wear even if no one would ever see them... 

Of course when Dean woke up the next morning half naked and disoriented with Cas' breath hot in the back of his neck and their legs intwined he had no memory of it. He had simply jumped out of the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom where he proceeded to puke his guts out until Cas shuffled inside with his hair sticking up in all directions and an aspirin sparkling in the glass of water he handed Dean. 

He never really talked about it again, although Castiel really tried to make him. That, however was the fateful night that sent Cas on his mission to free Dean's sexuality.


End file.
